Dark Ring
by NikS1nnoman
Summary: Rewritten. The world is growing darker, attacks are becoming more frequent and bloodies, and people are become more distrustful. It is into this world that a young woman emerges, injured, with no memory of what happened to her. **This is a crossover with The Dark Series, born out of an idea after watching The Hobbit too many times. Blame the plot pandas. Rated M to be safe.**
1. Chapter 1

**As stated in my other stories, I am an ESL teacher, a historian, and an avid reader. Nothing that is familiar to anyone is owned by me. That is owned either by J.R.R. Tolkien or Christine Feehan. I am simply playing out an idea in my head. Enjoy.**

* * *

 _P_ _rologue_

The night was still, quiet, a soft calm spreading across the mountains and forests. The silence was split suddenly as a loud roar tore the heavens apart, thunder crashed over the mountains, lightening ripped the sky open and rain poured down in torrents. Animals ran through the forest, diving for cover whilst the humans cowered in their homes, waiting for the sudden storm to pass. Only a few knew this was not a natural occurrence. The rage of someone had caused this storm, and they trembled at what may have happened. Deep within the mountains, in a cave so far underground the light came from illuminated crystals set into the walls, a temper was raging, almost out of control.

"What do you mean she is gone? She should not even be awake right now, yet you're saying she has vanished?"

Gregori Daratrazanoff did not flinch at the bark of his Prince, who was currently wearing a new path into the floor of the cave. "I mean just that Mikhail. She was here on the last rising; Francesca and I performed another healing session. Before she left Francesca mentioned to me the possibility of asking Skylar to come and have a look at her, possibly with Tatijana and Branislavia, and also Ivory Malinov. She was resting deep within the ground, under our strongest safeguards. I came back this rising to see if the session yesterday had made any progress and she was gone." Gregori swept a hand through his thick hair, sighing heavily. "I would have known if she had awakened Mikhail, or been taken. So would you, we have both taken her blood."

The look Mikhail sent his second-in-command and best friend was chilling, but was also full of weariness. The events of the last few months had taken a toll on all of them, but as the leader of their people, Mikhail took the weight of every failure, set back that affected their species. Tasked with trying to keep his people from falling into extinction, along with the near impossible task of creating a lasting bridge between his people and the Lycan community, Mikhail could only see this latest event as yet another disaster to befall their lives.

"Is it possible that she had awakened? Could she have been taken against her will?"

Gregori's response was to shake his head wearily. "I do not think she is awake Mikhail. But there is no other scent here than ours and Francesca. No one else has been in this cave. The safeguards surrounding this place could only have been lifted by you or I, and the ground has not been disturbed."

"So Lylita has what, melted into the earth?"

Gregori shrugged, sighing softly as he looked around the cave then back to his old friend. "I do not know Mikhail, I just do not know."

* * *

 _Chapter One_

The soft breeze was the only sound echoing across the grassy plains, along with the occasional birdsong. Among the random rocks and small gathering of trees was a still form, loosely curled up and clearly unconscious; the only indication of life was the chest rising and falling with breath. The clothes covering the body were ripped and worn, the skin beneath them showing evidence of a fight, scratches both shallow and deep and bruises marring legs, arms and torso. A slight gust of wind brushed strands of tangled black hair away from the face to reveal the features of a young woman, stunning in spite of the deep wound to her temple, the bruised eye and cheek and a heavily split lip.

Unconcerned with the blood on the woman's clothes and body, a thrush eventually settled near her unmoving form, pecking away at the grass for insects. The sun burst out suddenly from behind a thick cloud, hitting the woman with its full strength. A cough echoed from the body, causing the bird to fly away with a screech of both surprise and indignation. The woman's chest rose and fell in awkward movements, the gasps for air both strained and weak. Her eyes opened a fraction, fever filled and in pain, wandering restlessly trying to take in the surroundings through a hazy glaze. The only thought flitting through her head was that she had no idea where she was, her eyes fluttered shut again as she lost the fight to stay conscious.

* * *

"Why did I ever agree to come on this wretched trip" the elf muttered to himself as he strode away from the campfire. "The pranks back home are bad enough but out here? Are they even thinking?" Glorfindel sighed heavily as he paced out his frustration, annoyed yet again at being caught in one of the pranks set by the twins. It had been harmless enough, most of them usually were, but despite them being so close to the borders of the Greenwood it didn't mean much in terms of their safety. Indeed if anything, they stood a greater chance of being attacked by something in the forest.

The soft noise of a twig breaking brought the elf out of his whispered mutterings; turning his head he saw his old friend approaching behind him. Glorfindel inclined his head slightly and greeted him in a soft voice "Hir nin Elrond."

"What has managed to upset you so this time, Mellon-nin?" was the reply given by the elven-lord. His eyes, the only indication that he was far older than his youthful face suggested, twinkled with amusement in the starlight.

"You know full well what, and just who, has put me in this state" came the curt reply. Elrond fought to stifle a laugh as he saw how tense Glorfindel held himself, well aware the Balrog-Slayer was trying to keep a handle on his emotions. He knew his old friend was ever cautious about anything that could be lurking outside the ring of their guarded camp.

"I would apologise for my sons but, really Glorfindel, it has been a long journey, and this is the first prank they have pulled in over three weeks. Just be thankful it was not anything to do with the King, then we really could have been in trouble."

Glorfindel sighed heavily and rubbed his forehead before turning to fully look at Elrond. "I know Mellon, I am not angry at them really."

Elrond's right eyebrow twitched slightly. "There is something else is there not? Something besides those herbs has disturbed you."

Glorfindel nodded slightly. "I do not know what it is, but I have been uneasy ever since we stopped to make camp. It is like..." He trailed off for a moment before continuing, his soft voice lowering even more "Almost like something, or someone, is watching us."

He turned to look back to the forest they could faintly see in the distance, just as Elrond's own gaze swept their surroundings. "I know of what you speak, I can feel it also." At his friend's arched eyebrow he smiled ever so slightly "I have had this feeling since we set out this morning, but did not feel the need to alert the guard or the others. I do not feel that this ...presence...is a threat to us."

Glorfindel could only shake his head in exasperation. "Must you always be so cryptic Mellon?" A soft laugh was his only reply and he could feel his own lips twitch despite his good intentions. "We should probably head back to the camp."

"Already plotting your revenge against them are we?"

"What else do I have to do? You already seem to have everything else under control." Glorfindel grinned openly at his friend.

Elrond laughed aloud. "Stay out here for a little longer. They already know they annoyed you greatly. Let them stew for a little while longer."

Glorfindel arched an eyebrow. "What is this I hear? The mighty Lord Elrond has a devious streak in them?"

Elrond shrugged slightly. "Well they had to get it from somewhere. Who else if not me?" Both of the elves laughed at that.

* * *

The sun had long since set when the woman began to regain a sense of consciousness. A soft, broken moan escaped her lips as her eyes opened, lashes sweeping down to veil her eyes against the bright light of the moon. The increasing pulsing inside her head kept her from passing out again so she opened her eyes a little more. With another moan she pushed herself up slightly, her arms trembling beneath her. The landscape swung around her nauseatingly and she bit down on her lower lip, wincing as she opened the cut again, causing it to weep blood.

By the time her wits were about her again she became aware of her body shaking, because of pain or cold she did not know. Lifting her head slowly, her eyes wandered around restlessly, catching a glimpse of something flicker in the darkness. She strained her eyes trying to see further but the haze clouding her vision only grew in intensity, as did the irregular pounding in her head. Struggling to her feet, the woman winced against a shaft of pain that sliced through her, and with a staggering step forward she started to walk, stumbling every now and then as she moved slowly towards the steadily growing light, flickering every now and then as if buffeted by the wind.

* * *

It was a while longer before Elrond and Glorfindel decided to turn back towards the campfire. A muffled noise from behind them sent them both spinning around, Glorfindel ever vigilant placing himself just in front of Elrond as their sharp elven eyes tried to pierce through the dark shadows of the night.

"Maybe just one of the guards?" Elrond murmured, eyes shifting slightly to his right to look at Glorfindel. His friend twitched his head slightly, indicating he did not agree. "Not this far from the camp; the patrol area this night is much smaller. The Greenwood is too close to allow for a larger one." Without a further word both drew their swords. Neither of their blades was bathed in the pale blue glow they would emit were they in the vicinity of orcs or goblins. That however did not rule out the possibility of danger; in these increasingly unsettled times anything could be wandering the wilds.

It was Glorfindel who first spotted a sign of movement, his sword twitching to the left to point at the darker shadow moving slowly towards them. At Elrond's nod the pair crept forward, light treads making no sound unless they so wished it. As they came closer the figure seemed to stop before sinking to the ground. Glorfindel moved forward slightly more, just as the moon, previously hidden behind a thick cloud, emerged suddenly and bathed everything in a soft, silvery glow. A soft whisper of breath stopped him in his movement before he gasped. "Mellon, a girl."

* * *

Back at the camp the twin sons of Elrond were being thoroughly chastised by Lindir, who had taken it upon himself to defend the Balrog-Slayer. Despite trying to remain stern and aloof, Lindir could not fight the smile that kept breaking out across his face every time he remembered Glorfindel's reaction. Elladan looked over at his younger twin Elrohir and couldn't help but laugh at the smirk covering his face. In mock exasperation Lindir threw his hands in the air before shaking his head and moving away from them, just as howls of laughter erupted from the twins.

Elrophir recovered first, rubbing a hand across his mouth. "Do you think we should go after Glorfindel?"

Elladan shook his head, still laughing softly. "What, and have our heads banged together by him? I for one do not want to be waking up in the morn with a splitting headache."

Elrohir grinned "At least there was no honey and feathers involved this time. Only wounded pride." The two of them looked at one another before laughing again. Their younger brother Estel merely rolled his eyes. The two of them would never learn, not that he really wanted them to. The twins could always be counted upon for a laugh. It was as the three of them settled down on their bedrolls, the twins bantering about who would be their next target that a commotion arose from the other side of the camp. The three rose instantly, weapons drawn without a word.

"Adar?" Elladan's confused voice carried over the din as Elrond came rushing back into the circle of light around the fire "What is going on?"

"I need this fire built up, and water heated, now" Elrond's voice was stern and authoritive, his sons exchanged glances as they all heard the underlying tone of worry. Glorfindel emerged from the night just behind him, something cradled in his arms. Estel sheathed his sword and started to build up the fire whilst Elrohir started to heat up water as their father demanded. Elladan made his way over to the two older elves, both now kneeling on the ground. As he moved closer Elladan was able to spot a glint of pale skin and realised what Glorfindel was cradling in his arms. "What...who in all of Arda is that?"

"We do not know." Glorfindel's voice was tight with worry. "She came upon us just outside the edge of the patrol area, and collapsed before we even knew it was a girl."

Elrond was running his hands lightly over the girl's face, his countless years of experience as a healer ready to aid him. "She is frozen; we need to warm her up as quickly as we can. Move her as close to the fire as you can get her." Turning to his son he spoke quickly "I need my healing satchel from my horse, then gather as many blankets as you can, I fear we will need all we can lay our hands on." Elladan nodded and ran over to where their horses were gathered for the night. Meanwhile Glorfindel knelt down once again, this time next to the now larger fire and gently lay the girl on the blanket Elrohir had spread out for him. Elrond wasted no time in starting his examination of the still body. Cuts and scrapes marred her bare arms; a large ugly cut ran along her upper right arm whilst another stood out starkly against a pale cheek. Another deep gash cut across her temple, one of her eyes sported a heavy bruise and her lip had been split open at some point, if the dried blood adorning it was anything to go by. What worried him however was the deep red stain that coated the front of the white shirt she wore, not that he was paying much attention right now to her choice of clothing. Taking a hold of the small dagger Elladan passed him, Elrond quickly cut away her shirt, gasping softly at what he found underneath. Bruises covered her upper body, some faded to yellow and green whilst others stood out in deep blues and blacks. It looked as though she had been stamped on, or beaten, repeatedly. The blood was coming from a wound to her abdomen, deep enough that he could see torn muscle, even though the light from the flickering fire wasn't the best.

Swallowing deeply he got to work, aware that one of his sons was passing him the tools he needed whilst another kept up a steady supply of hot water. Glancing up briefly from the girls wound he saw Glorfindel had her head cradled in his lap and dabbed gently at the wounds to her face whilst Estel tended to the wound on her arm. It was a good while later that Elrond straightened up, sighing softly as his back ached from the position he had been in. He was surprised to find that the sky was lighter than it had previously been, dawn was not far off and none of them had rested at all. He washed the blood off his hands watching as Elladan bound soft cloths to the girls abdomen, careful not to press down too hard on the injury or on the herbal paste that had spread there to promote healing. He turned tired eyes to his old friend, still cradling her head. At a nod Glorfindel eased himself up off the ground, laying the girl down flat and they heaped blankets over her still form in an attempt to bring her body temperature up. Despite having been next to the roaring fire whilst they tended to her, the girl's body was still like ice, something that Elrond found worrying.

"What in Eru's name could have happened to her? And where did she come from?" Glorfindel asked quietly, watching the twins and Estel bank up the fire and mix together a healing tea for the girl. Elrond shook his head. "I do not know Mellon, but she certainly looks as if she was caught in the middle of something horrific."

Glorfindel nodded "I noticed something odd..." He grinned slightly at the look his friend shot him, the whole situation was more than just odd "The wounds to her face and arms; they looked like they had already been treated. But...well, I do not know how to explain it. It looked like soil had been pushed into the wounds."

Whatever Elrond had been expecting, it was not that. "Soil? Are you sure?"

"As sure as daylight Mellon."

He looked back down at the unconscious form, watching as Elladan sank down to the ground to lift her head a little; his brother tilted a bowl of the herbal tea against her lips and stroked her torn throat gently to encourage her to swallowing the healing liquid. Sighing softly Elrond muttered to himself. "What in all of Arda have we stumbled into this time?"


	2. Chapter 2

**This story is set post-Hobbit. It also mainly refers to the films rather than the book, which is why characters like Legolas and Aragon are in it. Translations are at the bottom of the page for both Elvish and Carpathian.**

* * *

 _There was nothing in the darkness save for the occasional dull throb of pain. It was only that which indicated I was still alive. Even then I was doubtful; surely there was more to life than this. I was tired, so very tired, of just everything. The weight of my life was pulling me into a downward spiral and there was nothing I could do to stop it._

 _It was only with this thought that I realised I did not know why I felt so tired. I did not know where I was, or how I got there. In truth I knew...nothing. That thought should have terrified me, and yet whilst it did, I felt detached from the feeling, it meant nothing to me. Rather, it was the knowledge of how I should feel, yet I was not actually experiencing it. This brought forth new questions._

 _Where was I?_

 _What had happened to me?_

 _Who was I?_

* * *

The sun was barely brushing the tops of the trees when the girl stirred slightly. Elrohir and Glorfindel were watching over her whilst the others caught up on some much needed sleep. It had already been decided that either Elrond or Glorfindel would always ben on watch. It was not that they did not trust the twins or Estel; they simply had a lot more experience. Although neither of them could claim to be in their comfort zones either, this entire situation had everyone baffled.

As Elrond lay down and tried to fall into the elven sleep, his mind wandered over the mysterious girl. She was malnourished, painfully so, looked as though she had not been at rest for some time, and from the number of wounds decorating her body she must have been to hell and back. And there was no knowing yet the state of her mind when she woke, if she woke for that matter. With a sigh his mind finally quietened enough and he slipped into Elvish dreams, but it barely felt like five minutes later that he was being shaken back into awareness.

"Adar" Elrohir was bent over him, gently shaking his shoulder. "It is the girl, she is stirring."

Elrond was instantly alert and sprang lightly to his feel, thanking his son quietly as he made his way over to Glorfindel who was gently patting the girl's head with a damp cloth. He looked up with worried eyes. "Her temperature has risen." Elrond laid his hand down on her forehead, wincing slightly at the heat radiating off of her and noting her agitated movements, although she appeared no closer to waking than when he last checked on her.

"I do not have the herbs I need to bring down this fever. And we are too far away from Rivendell to turn back, she would not make it." He glanced up at Glorfindel. "We can only take her forward, with us to Mirkwood."

Glorfindel exhaled audibly, his frown deepening. "Is this wise Elrond? You know what he is like. He would more than likely bar the doors against us."

"I know mellon, but we have no other option. This is her only chance at survival."

By now the rest of the camo was awake, Elrohir having roused his brothers and the slumbering members of their party. Glorfindel handed the cloth to Elrond before rising, calling out orders to break up the camp and be ready to ride. They did not want to move the girl until it was absolutely necessary, afraid they may cause any of the numerous wounds to start bleeding again, or misalign the fracture Elrond had noticed in her arm a couple of hours previously. Once everyone was mounted Glorfindel led his and Elrond's horses over to his lord. Elrond then jumped lightly into his saddle whilst Glorfindel gently lifted the girl into his arms. She seemed to quiet a little, for which they were both thankful, her unconscious moving would only make it harder to keep a hold of her and control the horse at the same time. He passed her carefully to Elrond, cradling her in his arms in front of him, resting her head against his shoulder and making sure the fractured limb was resting securely in its bindings. Meanwhile Glorfindel mounted his own horse and had cast a quick look around their camp before giving the signal to move out. The horses all moved as one, Elrond and his sons in the centre of the group with Glorfindel just in front of them, and the guards surrounding them in a loose but strong circle.

* * *

It took them half a day to reach the outskirts of Greenwood the Great, although to most now it was known as Mirkwood. Evil seeped from the ruins of Dol Guldor, and contaminated the surrounding forest. Only the wood-elves, under the leadership of their King, were able to keep the darkness contained to the forests and away from the rest of Arda. Because of this however, these elves had become very reclusive, rarely straying from the borders of their kingdom, let alone from below the eaves of the forest. They shunned anyone who strayed past their borders and seldom communicated with their kin in Rivendell or Lothlórien.

It was to that kingdom that Lord Elrond and his company were headed, for talks had been arranged to try and bring the three Elven Realms closer. Everyone involved knew this really meant trying to pull the Woodland Realm out of its self-imposed exile. The threats from the South were becoming greater and it would affect the lives of all in Arda. They had to be ready. But now Elrond feared these talks may never take place; the delicate issue of them being welcome within the halls of the wood-elves alone could hang in the balance with the arrival of the girl. As their stopped their horses for a moment just outside the forest Elrond glanced down at her. His sharp eyes noted the sweat gathering on her forehead from the continuing fever. Earlier they had slipped a spare shirt one of the guards had over her body, and yet despite the cloths they had bound against her abdomen he could make out faint drops of red seeping into the shirt. He pulled his cloak further around both of them, trying to ease her shivering a little with the heavy material and his own body heat. Nodding at Glorfindel who had sent his a questioning glance Elrond moved his horse onward, entering the forest at a steady trot. Being on the Elven path meant they had to adjust the structure of their company; Elrond rode with Glorfindel and Estel on either side of him, Elladan and a guard in front, Elrohir and another guard behind them. In front of Elladan were two guards, and the rest were behind the younger twin and his companion.

Their steady pace would have meant they would cover a fair amount of ground had they been out in the open; under the trees it was a different matter. Even though they were on the path it was still dangerous travelling, tree roots mainly having burrowed their way under the stone and pushing up through the slabs. So as not to injure any of the horses they dismounted after a couple of mules, leading them along the path instead on foot. Elrond and the twins took turns in carrying the girl; Estel would have struggled navigating the path whilst bearing her weight and Glorfindel was leading the command of the guard. After several hours of steady travelling, stopping only twice for a break and to try and bring the girl's fever down with cold compresses, they came to a halt. The sun, barely penetrating the forest floor, had finally set, making the shadows of the trees darker and more threatening, if that were even possible. The question they had now was whether or not to carry on through the night, for their sharp elven eyes were able to see far better in the dark than a human's ever could. The problem with this though was Estel, who was human and already starting to struggle in making out the path. They also had their horses to consider; as great as Elven mounts were, they could not see any better in the dark. And there was the girl who, as the sun set has started setting, became more agitated and restless. When it became clear they could not continue any further they halted to make camp, careful not the stray off the path. Even though they would probably be able to make it to the halls of the King without following the road no one wanted to take the chance.

Elrohir and Estel gathered several blankets from the horses and piled them up on the ground close to the fire two of the guards were building. Elladan knelt and laid the girl gently on top of the blankets, taking the damp cloth his twin passed him and wiping it across her forehead. Her fever had not broken, if anything it was higher than a few hours before, making Elrond frown in concern as he examined her. To confirm his suspicions he gently pushed up her shirt and loosened the bandages wrapped around her abdomen, removing the soft cloth that was slowly soaking up blood. He sighed softly as he examined the wound; infection had set in, turning the skin around the wound black and pus was leaking from the site. He needed to make sure that the pus drained, so took a small sharp knife and carefully cut away two of the stitches he had made the night before. Normally he wouldn't stitch up a wound, but this one was deep enough that leaving it open simply hadn't been an option. Blood immediately welled up, dark with infection, along with discharge created by the infection. There was something else though, something more that worried him. Lowering his head Elrond sniffed the wound slightly, earning a raised eyebrow and questioning gaze from Glorfindel.

"Is this some new healing technique I have not been told about? Bringing out the infection by sniffing?"

Elrond smiled slightly, but it did nothing to ease the worry in his eyes. "There is something…I do not know how to explain it. Her blood smells different."

Glorfindel's eyebrow rose further. "Are you sure you are not just smelling the infection?"

Elrond shook his head. "Not, it is her blood." Glorfindel bent his head and sniffed cautiously, his eyes widening as he turned his gaze upon his lord. Elrond nodded slightly ever so slightly before wrapping the girl's abdomen back up. He pulled the shirt back into place and covered her with several blankets and cloaks before sitting back and resting his head in his hand, looking into the fire with weary eyes. "I think mellon, this girl is far more than she appears to be."

Glorfindel nodded in agreement. "Aye, but what could she be? I have never seen anything like this before."

"Neither have I. Valar, what a time to stumble across whatever this mystery is."

Glorfindel laughed softly. "I know. I blame the twins. Something unexpected always happens when they are around."

Elrond had to laugh at that, for it was nothing but the truth, much to the chagrin of his Elven sons.

* * *

The next day passed much as the one before, the only difference was the condition of the girl. She was steadily getting worse, the fever not letting up and the infection continuing to spread within her body. Nothing that Elrond could do would let either up even a little and he was growing more concerned about her continuing state of unconsciousness. On the one hand it was probably a blessing as he was sure she was being spared copious amounts of pain had she been awake, but on the other hand he could only guess as to how bad she truly was. Even knowing her name would be of some benefit as it would give an indication of where she had come from and he might be able to help her a little more. As of right now, Elrond could only do what he was doing for her, and that was barely anything.

Because of where they had entered Mirkwood, it was not taking them quite as long to reach the Woodland Realm. It was just under an hour away from the main gates that they passed the official borders. Everyone's senses heightened, which was impressive as they were already on high alert travelling through the dark woods. Barely ten minutes later Glorfindel lifted a closed fist, signalling everyone to halt. Eyes were upon them, and although he was sure they would be from their woodland kin, one could never be too careful these days.

Sure enough, barely seconds later several forms dropped from the trees around them or emerged from the bushes and shadows. One figure detached from the group and stepped forward, a hand over his heart in welcome, for he instantly recognised the travellers.

"Mae Govannen Hîr Elrond."

Elrond stepped forward with Glorfindel at his side, both bowing their heads respectfully, Glorfindel a little more than his lord. "Mae Govannen Caun Legolas. It has been far too long since we last met."

Legolas smiled slightly in agreement. "That is has Hîr-nin. We have been kept busy these last few years keeping our lands free of the darkness. But this is not the place to be talking of such things. How fared your journey? Uneventful I hope."

Elrond sighed and shook his head slightly, causing the prince to tilt his head slightly in question. "I am afraid that I must ask for your help, and that of your healers."

Legolas' brow furrowed. "Healers? Were you attacked?"

Elrond shook his head and motioned for Legolas to follow him as he turned back to his companions. They made their way over to Elrond's sons; Elrohir and Estel were kneeling whilst Elladan stood just behind them. As Estel moved slightly to the side Legolas caught sight for the first time the girl cradled in Elrohir's arms, Estel sponging her forehead gently.

"Ai! What happened to this woman?"

"It is a long story Legolas, and one I fear I will tell only a hundred times more. I have to ask if you will allow us to bring this penneth to your father's halls with all haste and I will try and answer all of your questions when I speak with the king. She is desperately ill and becoming worse with each passing minute."

Legolas had knelt next to his old friends and ran a hand lightly over the girls face, recoiling slightly at the heat coming off of her. Nodding he straightened up, looking over to his woodland companions and murmured a string of orders. A few disappeared back into the gloom of the forest whilst two turned and sped off in the direction of the Halls to warn of the imminent arrival and request for healers to be ready. The remaining few moved among Elrond's companions and helped collect belongings, making the remainder of the trip as short and quick as possible.

The Prince of the Woodland Realm offered to carry the girl so that his friend could walk unhindered for a while but Elrohir shook his head with a smile, standing with ease and cradling her against his body. "It is fine mellon. We are not too far from our destination and she is not that heavy a burden." Legolas nodded in reply and walked to the front of the group, from which he started to lead them towards the lighter parts of the Woodland Realm, and to the Halls over which his father, Thranduil, ruled.

Elvish Translations:

 _Adar_ \- Father

 _Mellon_ \- Friend

 _Mae Govannen_ \- Well met

 _Hîr_ \- Lord

 _Cund_ \- Prince

 _Hîr-Nin_ \- My Lord

 _Ai!_ \- Hail!

 _Penneth_ \- Little one


	3. Chapter 3

**Had to do a fair bit of research for this chapter as there is a focus on the Carpathians (both the Mountain Ranges and the species). As you may be aware if you have read the Dark Series, Christine Feehan never states exactly whereabouts in the Mountains her characters live, just that it is in Romania. Therefore I have decided (after a long time of reading articles and pouring over countless maps), that the Carpathian characters mentioned in my story are going to be residing in the Western part of the Romanian Mountains, on the curve of the Range near a place called Peştera Scărişoara, which is actually a National Park so fits in rather well, and is close to a village in an area called Ghețari (my computer did not like those names). For all intents and purposes, this village is the human village that will be referenced.**

 **Translations for Carpathian and Elvish are at the bottom of the page.**

* * *

Chapter Three

The weather, often fairly unpredictable in the mountains, was even worse than usual lately. Being one of the poorer regions of Romania, the villages in Ghețari rarely received what could be called accurate weather updates. But anyone could tell that the weather they were currently experiencing was not normal. One minute the sun would be shining, then thunderclouds would appear quite literally out of nowhere and the rest pf the day would alternate between a freezing wind and driving rain. In the higher mountains snow would cover the trees, making it nigh impossible to travel. Night was even worse, with thunder and lightning storms splitting the sky apart and threatening to do the same to the earth, often lasting until mid-morning.

Of course the villagers had no idea what was causing the bizarre anomalies. Although many of the villagers were superstitious and fully believed in the myths and legends surrounding their homes about the night creatures plaguing the lands, they were able to remain in blissful ignorance as to the true cause of these abnormalities. As long as they stayed to the villages rather than attempting to travel abroad at night, they were safe. Well, relatively speaking anyway.

Not every creature in the mountains was ignorant as to the cause of the weather however. One group of beings knew exactly what this was. A temper tantrum. Well maybe that was not quite true, strictly speaking, but tempers were being tested, and as more time passed with questions unanswered and a disappearance unsolved, emotions were swinging out of control.

This particular 'tantrum' was generated from a Daratrazanoff. Gregori, the _Dark One._ He was angry, no other way to put it. Angry at the hunters, for failing to track who or what had taken Lylita, angry at his brothers for not being able to find her. He was angry at himself for not realising she had disappeared in the first place, a feat unheard of. He was angry with Lylita herself; if she had not been injured in the first place than she would never have disappeared. Although at the same time he knew that he could never truly be angry with her in that aspect. As much as he disagreed with female hunters and fighting the vampire, it was what Lylita did. Ever since the…incident. She was a fighter, and bloody good at it. Not that she ever paid any attention to her limits.

But at this moment in time none of that mattered. Oh yes he was angry, that could not be put into words, but this was centred entirely on one being. One figure. His oldest friend, closest confidant asides from his lifemate, the one man who just so happened to be his father-in-law. Holding the status of Prince did little to shield Mikhail from Gregori's wrath, the two of them had known each other long enough for title to hold little to no significance to the pair.

"How can you do this? You know what you are asking them to do, what you're asking me to do!" Gregori's shout echoed throughout the forest, scaring away what few animals had dared venture out into the stormy night.

Mikhail sighed wearily as he regarded his friend. "You think I don't know? Of course I do Gregori. I know what this means to everyone, especially you. But I have to be realistic." His reply was quieter than Gregori's, he was simply too tired to be shouting and knew it would get them nowhere.

"To call them back means we are giving up. She is still out there Mikhail, I know it."

"Gregori it has been three months. We have not found anything. Literally nothing. No one can reach her telepathically, not even us and we hold the closest bond to her. I have to draw back the hunters, they are needed here."

Gregori growled slightly as he looked out into the forest. "We cannot give up on her." He carried on stubbornly.

"Damn it Gregori of course we cannot. I am not giving up on her. I want her to be out there and alive just as much as you do. Hell if I could be out there right now I would be. You know that. But I cannot. I have to think of the rest of our people. The ones that are still here, that need our protection. Can you not see how difficult this is for me? She is my family as much as she is yours!" Mikhail slumped down, sitting on the snow-covered ground and leaning his back against a tree. "I have to think of everyone. Not just one person. And you know that is what she would want. Lylita would not want everyone's efforts wasted on trying to find her when the rest of our species are still trying to survive."

Gregori looked over at Mikhail and sighed heavily before adopting a similar position to his friend. He ran a hand over his weary face before shoving it through his long hair, a humourless grin gracing his lips briefly. "No, she would not want that would she. That woman is too stubborn for her own good."

"Oh and I wonder where she gets that from" came the instant reply, causing the pair to finally share a genuine smile. "Because I can assure you my old friend, it does not come from me."

Gregori snorted slightly. "Where do you come up with these atrocious lies Mikhail?" They fell silent for a while, both watching as the storm started to lesson, no longer fuelled by such anger. "Do you think she is still alive? Out there somewhere?"

Despite the fact that the hunters had found nothing. Not even André, the Ghost, or the triplets, the best trackers the Carpathian species had ever had, nor their allies in the Lycan community, or the Hän ku pesäk kaikak. "Yes, I think she is still alive. Somewhere. We have to have hope Gregori. That she will come back to us some day. She will come home."

* * *

 _Where was I?_

 _What happened to me?_

 _Who was I?_

 _The same questions continued to echo around me. Or at least, I thought they did. I could summon no energy to do anything, only float in the endless sea of darkness and the ever present pules of pain. I found myself idly wondering why I was feeling these bouts of pain, but then that was another question to the three unanswered ones. And I found I could not find any incentive to answer any of them. What was the point? I was dead anyway, or very close to it. Not that I could be aware of that, for I could remember nothing before this. My memory continued to elude me._

 _Over time, drifting on and on, I became aware of something. Something…new. It was a…noise. A voice. How did I know that? Surely it could not produce that many sounds at once. More than one? How could I hear this? What was it? For a reason I could not identify it sounded…familiar, almost like it was meant to be a…comfort. That was unfamiliar._

 _The voices were impossible to pick out, chanting so softly it was more like a murmur than anything else. Occasionally I would hear something that I could understand…why did it sound familiar?_ "…sisar…hany, jama…pus wäkenkek…śarnak pus fünk…pitänak…elävä" _The voices rose and fell in perfect synchronization, as if it had been done a thousand times. Then I could hear something else, more…words?_ "Lańa…mica…kont o sívanak…pusm…tõdak pitässz…bekimet…kaiket…"

 _I felt…different. The voices were fading, and so was the deep darkness surrounding me. It did not seem quite so…black…anymore. The pain, something that had been pushing at me constantly until I started hearing the voices, came surging in suddenly, surrounding me. If I had a mouth I was certain I would be screaming from the agony that engulfed me, ripping me away from the peacefulness of the darkness and the voices…_

* * *

Legolas knew, without a doubt, that his father was going to have a few choice words to say when he found out what Lord Elrond's party were bringing with them. He was not even completely sure the Elvenking would allow them entry into the Halls. Of course it was within his rights to deny entry to any who were a threat to the Kingdom, but surely he would not deny entry and aid to the woman. Especially not this close to nightfall, with all manner of foul creatures stalking the forests.

Shaking his head free of these thoughts he turned his head to look back at the woman, currently being carried by Elladan to give his twin a rest. It looked like she weighed nothing at all, but having to carry her in a way that would not interfere with her wounds too much, to try and keep her comfortable whilst battling her fever and having to stop her from hurting herself when her body would spasm slightly was no doubt taxing. But he did not offer to carry her again. He knew Lord Elrond and his sons very well, having travelled to Rivendell often in past years and going out with the twins and Estel hunting Orcs, and he could tell that they were extremely protective of the woman. It was not that they did not trust him. Everyone in this strange company trusted each other with their lives. But Legolas, with the exception of Glorfindel and Elrond, was the strongest fighter, and knew his way through the forests of Mirkwood like the back of his hand. The fact that his father would kill him if he found out he, the Crown Prince of the Woodland Realm, was carrying a mere mortal throughout his lands, was another issue.

A low whistle had Legolas snapping his head back around in time to see the gates of the Woodland Realm looming in front of them. They had arrived. Two guards stood to attention as Legolas' gaze landed on them before turning to open the gates. Almost immediately more guards streamed out of the halls, along with several servants to help unburden the Rivendell Company. Behind them were yet more elves, the Council of the Woodland Realm, led by the King, Thranduil himself. Legolas bowed his head, placing a fist across his chest in a sign of respect.

"Aran-nin" he murmured softly, greeting his father formally whilst in the midst of so many others. Whilst neither of them particularly enjoyed playing this charade, both Thranduil and Legolas had agreed years before it was better for them to portray a King and Prince/Commander relationship in public, leaving the father and son relationship for a more private setting. Right now Thranduil was in full King persona, dressed in a spectacular silver robe, a great crown filled with the flowers and leaves of summer adorning his head. He inclined his head with a brief smile to his son before turning to Elrond.

"Mae Govannen Hir-Elrond." Thranduil's head bowed significantly more, a sign of respect towards a fellow ruler. Legolas' shoulders lowered a fraction in relief; his father was being formal and polite, maybe this venture was not going to be the disaster he had suspected it would be. Before Thranduil could say another word however, Elrond held up a hand, concern showing deeply in his eyes.

"The pleasure is mine King Thranduil. I know this is spectacularly bad timing but I must see your healers at once. There is great need for them."

As if on que, three male elves appeared behind the Council members. All of them were wearing deep blue robes tinted with white, the robes of Mirkwood healers. The first male, the head healer who went by the name Ûron, bowed to his King, his voice soft. "Aran-nin, we were summoned?"

At his father's nod Elladan, who had been standing behind Elrond and Glorfindel, with Estel beside him, stepped forward, showing the host of elves in front of them for the first time the being in his arms. A soft sound echoed around them, a collective gasp from the assembled Mirkwood elves as their eyes beheld the woman. Glancing quickly at the King, the three elves headed swiftly over to Elladan, eyes travelling over what they could see of the woman in a professional manner as they tried to take in every bite of information they could.

Thranduil was barely aware of what was going on, his entire being was focused on the woman. He could only make out a part of her face, bruised and flushed with fever, but he knew, without a doubt, that she was beautiful. A light touch on his arm brought his awareness crashing back into him, turning slightly he saw the head of his household staff, Galion (who also acted as Thranduil's butler) looking at him as if awaiting an answer. "Goheno nin mellon. I was not paying attention."

The mere ghost of a grin graced his friend's face. "The woman will need to be taken to the infirmary." The King nodded, silently thanking Galion with his eyes before stepping forward, motioning to two of his guards. "Take this woman to the healing rooms." He turned to Elrond and his sons. "I assume you will want to accompany her." Elrond's status as a master healer was well-known throughout the Elven lands, and he himself owed Elrond several times over for saving his son's life a number of times over the years.

Elrond nodded. "If that is acceptable to you. I would like to make sure that she is going to be okay. I was only able to do so much during the journey."

Thranduil inclined his head slightly. "But of course. The formal welcomes are not necessary. Will your sons be assisting you?"

Elrond's gaze swung over to his sons before shaking his head. "No, it has been a long journey and I am sure they are need of rest." His three sons opened their mouths practically in unison, amusing Legolas greatly, but a raised eyebrow from their father stilled any protest. Bowing respectfully towards their host the twins and Estel made their way into the Palace, being shown by servants to their chambers for the duration of their stay.

* * *

Whilst Elrond and Thranduil talked at the front gate, the guards were arriving at the Halls of Healing, laying the woman gently down onto a bed. They stood back and moved to the doors as the healers swarmed in, intent on bringing down her fever and destroying the infection. Elrond arrived minutes later, glancing briefly at Ûron who nodded at him, before turning his gaze to the unconscious figure and assuming command of the situation. The rest of the healers automatically deferred to him due to his duel statuses of a master healer and the ruling Lord of the Last Homely House. Whilst travelling, as he had briefly explained to Thranduil, he did not have access to the potions and herbs he needed to help the girl fight to live. In here however it was a different matter, nor was he working alone. Elrohir was a great help; Elrond had trained him after all, but he was still a warrior, like his twin. The healers here were another matter; it was their calling and had to deal with wounds and injuries almost on a daily basis.

Whilst two elleths eased the blankets and shirt off of the girl as gently as possible an elleyn was mixing up a fever-reducing potion. Another male was crushing several herbs and a sticky green liquid together into a paste to also aid in reducing the fever as a couple others were preparing similar potions and herbs to try and destroy the infection. Elrond and Ûron gently loosened the cloths covering the girl's abdomen and pulled them away from the wound. Seeing it for the first time Ûron winced slightly; how could she still be alive? The infection had spread in deep, although there was a chance it had not yet reached her internal organs. If it had not, they would be able to save her. If it had…they could buy her hours, at best.

He took a small knife and set to work picking apart the row of stitches that held the wound together whilst Elrond took a basin of water from an assistant and dumped a handful of herbs into the steaming liquid. He let them stew for a few minutes before dipping a soft cloth into the mixture and allowing it to soak up the water. Once Ûron moved aside Elrond started to clean out the wound, as gently as possible, pausing every few seconds to wash the cloth in the water. He noted that every time he touched the wound the girl would tense slightly, her limbs twitching as if in pain. She would also let out, every now and then, the softest whimper. It was barely a sound, but Elrond took it as an encouraging sign; this was the most movement she had made since she stumbled into his life days ago. Ûron took to slowly tipping the fever-reducing potion down the girl's throat, careful not to let her choke on the thick liquid. Elrond began tipping the healing liquid onto her abdomen, taking care not to burn her skin. This caused the girl to whimper loudly, her face scrunching slightly in pain. An elleth wiped a cool cloth over her forehead, whispering softly to her in Sindarin to calm her down as the healers continued their work.

It took several hours before Elrond eventually deemed the infection to have been flushed out. The constant movement and continual pressure on the girl's abdomen had caused the wound to start bleeding a little again, and not wanting to have the infection recurring Elrond decided to sew the wound again, his hands quick and sure as they gently tugged at the girls flesh. "Her fever is starting to break. The herbs are working." Ûron's voice was low but filled with relief, glancing up at Elrond. He sighed softly, passing a weary hand over his eyes before sitting back and looking down at the girl. He was right, the herbs were indeed working for her flushed complexion was starting to return to normal. It would be a few hours yet, but Elrond started to hope that she would actually awaken.

* * *

 **Some names I have created, such as Ûron (meaning Heat/Fire) whereas others like Galion do actually appear in Tolkin's works.**

 **Carpathian Translations**

 **Although some of these quotes are not fully completed, I have offered the full translation to make it easier to understand what is being said.**

 ** _Sisar...hany, jama –_** **My sister's body is a lump of earth, close to death**

 ** _pus wäkenkek...śarnank pus fünk...pitänak...elävä_** **–** **Our healing energies, ancient words of magic, and healing herbs bless my sister's body, keep it alive**

 ** _Lańa_** **–** **Daughter**

 ** _Mića_** **–** **Beautiful**

 ** _Kont o sívanak_** **–** **Strong heart (Heart of the warrior)**

 ** _Pusm –_** **To be restored to health**

 ** _Tõdak pitässz..bekimet..kaiket –_** **I know you have to courage to face everything**

 **Elvish Translations**

 ** _Aran-nin_** **–** **My King**

 ** _Goheno nin mellon_** **–** **Forgive me friend**


	4. Chapter 4

**So I can only apologise for the delay; as I have stated in my other stories I am currently on holiday and have not been able to keep as up to date with my stories as I would like to have done.**

 **A big thank you to those who have read this story, and to those who have reviewed; it is very encouraging. I cannot promise when I will next update this story but hopefully it will not be a three week this time.**

 **Enjoy xXx**

* * *

Chapter Four

 _Sound came first – a soft thumping – muffled and faint. As that grew sharper other noises began to emerge. The trickling of water, playing over rocks and gushing down falls. The wind, whistling through leaves. A melody, so soft it was like the whisper of silk over skin. And something even softer, quiet and gentle, so soothing it made my body feel even heavier than it already was, and yet cleared my head enough for me to realise I had no idea where I was. With that thought I instantly began trying to open my eyes. Not that I could currently find them. The soft thumping in the background started to make itself more present, growing louder and faster, along with a strange tightness I could not identify. It dulled the other sounds, yet the one I found the most comforting ceased almost immediately. A pattering that started out loud grew fainter, and a new pressure registered, this one soft and warm. Interesting, I suddenly realised I could feel this. Something gently running up and down, I could feel it, but how could I? why? And where were my eyes? How did I even know that word? What did it mean? How could I know what it meant?_ _ **K**_ ** _öd alte belső_** _. What was going on?_

* * *

"Echuio pen tithen. Lle ier varna."

"Merileth?"

The elleth turned her head as her name was called, seeing Lord Elrond enter the healing room was Lessil close behind him. She moved further down the bed to allow him to the girl's side, his hand replacing hers on the slender wrist, measuring the now racing pulse in the obviously terrified form. He started murmuring softly in a tongue so old neither of the elleths knew what it was called.

"She has not been like this long, my Lord. I sent Lessil as soon as her heart started to quicken." Merileth whispered, placing a hand on one of the girl's legs, covered with a soft woollen blanket. Elrond's other hand moved to rest on her forehead as he picked up her wrist. _Too thin_ Merileth thought even as she watched him attempting to call the girl back to the waking world.

A noise, soft and yet grating, filled the chamber. The three elves fell silent, noting the noise came from the form on the bed; a moan, weak and quiet. It was the first noise she had made in days. Lessil had begun to wonder if she would ever wake, make any noise at all after so many days of silence and stillness.

Elrond pressed down on the girl's forehead suddenly, causing her body to tense even in unconsciousness. "Lasto beth nîn pen tithen. Tolo dan nan galad." A louder sound tore from the girl's throat, broken and almost desperate. Merileth winced slightly as if it hurt her ears, even though it did not. If anything it tore at her heart, to witness someone so young create a noise of such pain and sorrow.

As Elrond removed his hand from her forehead the girl's body shifted slightly on the bed and her eyes, moving just beforehand so quickly beneath the cover of her eyelids, shot open. Having not seen them before, albeit briefly and under the cover of darkness and blood, Elrond did not gasp, nor did he pull away from the girl. Both elleths did however; Lessil actually stepping away from the bed in shock. Merileth did not recoil, but her shock was just as audible. The girl's eyes were like nothing either of them had seen before. The black iris stood out starkly against a deep circle of blood red, which is turn was ringed by an orange the colour of flames. The final colour, a band so fine and yet so obvious completed the set; pure gold, almost shimmering in the soft light of the candles filling the room. Despite their brilliance the eyes were hazy, clouded stull with the effects of sleep and healing, drifting lazily across the room and unable to focus on anything in particular. Until they came into contact with those of Lord Elrond.

* * *

 _Light! So bright against the darkness I had been aware of, and yet it was no consequence to me. A dim thought that it should worry be briefly floated before drifting away, and all I could register was the light. Even the sounds that had kept me grounded before faded, as if with the emergence of the light they did not need to be so prominent anymore. The light vanished briefly before returning. It happened twice more before I realised, I was blinking. I must have found my eyes. I could see, very faintly, strange shapes above me, but I could not focus on them. My gaze shifted aimlessly, wandering down before becoming locked on a pair of dark eyes, sharp and intense. My sight sharpened almost instantly and the form those eyes belonged to drew into focus. Not that I could look away to see the form in its entirety; those eyes held mine captive. The intenseness left them suddenly, leaving behind something familiar, a feeling…warm. The word appeared suddenly, as clear as if it had been spoken, yet it came not from around me. Where did it come from? Slowly I became aware of the form, a person, was moving, and yet not. Talking. Lips were moving and noises were coming from their direction. They too sounded familiar, like the comforting noises I had heard earlier. Where had that word come from? That wasn't familiar, yet it was. What was going on?_

* * *

"Av-'osto henig." Elrond spoke softly to the girl, hoping not to startle her with any loud noises or sudden movements. The two elleths likewise remained still and silent, watching as the Lord of Rivendell took the lead in reassuring the girl. He had been the one to find her, perhaps she would remember him. Her brilliant eyes had focused on Elrond the moment she registered him and it was as if she had not noticed anything else about the room, or its other two occupants. As the Elven lord continued to speak softly to the girl, Merileth took the opportunity to examine her once again. Her eyes set off the paleness of her skin, almost shockingly, and it was a wonder to her how she had missed just how pale her charge was. the dark tresses of her hair highlighted her eyes even further, and the thick set of lashes that framed them. She had found when she had bathed and combed through the girls hair that bands of colour made up the thick mane. Streaks of white, pale grey, even dark blue highlighted the black. It was also obvious, painfully so, just how slender the girl was. all elves were thin; the exception being the warriors whose muscle always set them out as who they were. But this was not natural; it was unhealthy and almost certainly not done intentionally. She hoped not anyway.

Elrond's attempts to draw the girl into a conversation were not working. The girl was not responding, or doing anything other than stare at him. Without breaking eye contact with her he called softly to Lessil, asking her to locate his sons and Glorfindel and bring them to the chamber. He also asked her to send a message to Thranduil to tell him the girl had at last awakened. She bowed her head briefly before exiting the chamber, completely unnoticed by the girl in the bed.

"Pedil edhellen?" This was Elrond's next attempt to get the girl talking. It was obvious to all she was not Elvish, her ears were not pointed, and she would barely come up to the chest of an average sized Elf once she was standing. Her eyes confirmed this; no elf, nor any being Elrond had seen or heard about, had eyes like hers. He was wondering yet again at what he had come across. The words appeared to have finally registered with the girl, but her reaction made him think she had recognised through the tone of his voice that the words had been a question for her forehead creased slightly as if in confusion. Still without breaking his gaze he turned a part of his attention to the elleth standing next to him. "It does not appear that she can understand what I am saying to her. I do not think she can speak or understand Elvish."

Merileth replied softly, hoping she wouldn't startle the girl with her voice. "If she cannot understand you, would she not try and indicate why in another tongue? We have only spoken Elvish as far my lord, could we not try a human tongue instead?"

As expected the girl stiffened at the new sound, her body tensing as her clouded eyes finally broke away from Elrond and travelled to the source of the sound. She quickly found Merileth and stilled, obviously unsure about what was going on. Merileth made sure that none of her worries were evident on her face or in her eyes, giving the girl instead a warm smile. The girl's eyes appeared to soften slightly at the smile, possibly recognising something that she had seen in Elrond's face? The elvish lord looked from the face of his patient to the elleth and nodded slightly at her, indicating for her to give it a try. She spoke as softly as she could, not as used to the harshness of the common tongue as she was to her own, yet still speaking flawlessly. "What is your name child?" She started off with what she hoped was a simple question, unsure about how to proceed if the girl did reply and also if she didn't.

* * *

 _The new voice set something off in me that was unfamiliar which in itself was unsettling. Finding it impossible to move my head, which felt like it was being weighed down, my eyes slid to the source of the noise. It was familiar, one of the sounds I had heard earlier. And yet different, but not in a bad way. My eyes locked onto the new set of eyes, dark again, but different from the other. The face was different too, the same styles of angles but softer, more gentle looking. The tongue this person used was the same as the first, but when the eyes turned to mine it changed. I could see, though how I knew this was unknown, this person was trying to be…I couldn't identify whatever it was. The new words seemed to make more sense, but I couldn't identify them properly. Nor could I reply, though I knew I should._

* * *

Both Elrond and Merileth noted the faint sheen of comprehension in her eyes at the question. It seemed she had understood the question, but had still not yet answered. Elrond leant forward slightly, bringing the girls eyes back onto him. He switched easily to the common tongue, having been a master at languages for many years. "Can you understand us child?" She frowned slightly and Elrond pressed on gently. "Can you not speak? Shake your head if you cannot."

There was a pause and Merileth found herself holding her breath in anticipation. The girl continued to frown slightly before she, almost agonisingly slowly, moved her head to the side and back again. She cast a look over at Elrond, but before she could comment the door to the chamber opened and the twin sons of Elrond and the Rivendell Captain walked into the room. Once again it did not appear as if the girl was aware of others entering the room, her gaze set once again upon Elrond. One of the twins, Merileth could not tell them apart, approached his father. "Adar?"

The effect was instantaneous. The girl bolted upright off the bed, rolling away from them and onto the floor. She landed with a soft sound of pain, scurrying backwards to the far wall, putting as much distance between her and the others as possible. Both Elrond and Merileth stood up the second she moved, Glorfindel moving around both of them to the end of the bed. Merileth had also started to move, intent on reaching the girl. "Daro!" Both elves stopped in their tracks, Glorfindel looking back to Elrond whilst Merileth tried to keep in eye contact with the girl. Elrond motioned for the two of them to step back, which they did so, reluctantly, allowing him to walk slowly around the bed. He stopped at the foot of the bed and crouched down till he was at the same height as the girl. He didn't move, just knelt there waiting, watching the girl.

She had curled up into a ball against the wall, her arms wrapped tightly around her knees. The blanket covering her had fallen off the side of the bed, leaving her clad only in the thin white gown she had been dressed in by the healers. His sharp eyes noted the darkening colour appearing where some of her bandages were, mainly around her torso and legs. Her body was trembling and there was a look in her eyes, something Elrond could only just see through the thick curtain of her hair. They held fear, naturally, but there was something else. They looked almost feral, wild and untamed. It made him pause for a second, to wonder just what she had been through. And who exactly she was.

"It is okay child. They are my family, here to help." Elrond's voice was soft, soothing, an attempt to calm her down before she could further injure herself. She flinched and tried to draw back closer to the wall; an almost inaudible sound escaping from her. A whimper of pain most likely, given the way she was holding herself. Still Elrond did not move forward, waiting for her to become more receptive. "They are not here to hurt you. No one will again, I promise you." He paused, choosing his next words with care. "You are safe here little one."

* * *

 _The unexpected sound did something. I was staring at the eyes of the first person I had seen. Male, I assumed, from the sharper angles of the face, the way the form was held, the ways and sounds of the speech. Then came a new noise, and everything was a blur. I was suddenly pressed up against something hard, unyielding. It was warm, pulsing slightly, something else I did not expect and it set me on edge. But it was…comforting? Familiar? A noise, muffled by something sharp, a ringing, tried to get through to me but I couldn't make sense of it, couldn't focus. Everything inside me was telling me to flee but I couldn't. And what was telling me that? The sound came again and I heard something else, a tiny almost inconsequential sound but it was…close? Something shot through me and my body tensed. What was that? Pain. Again there was that sense I could not understand. And it was terrifying me. Strange as well that this in itself was foreign, more so than anything happening around me._

* * *

Elrond watched closely as the wild look started calming in her eyes. It didn't fade entirely, but enough that he decided to risk moving a little closer to her. Making his body move as slowly as possible he moved forward slightly on his knees, his eyes fixed on her. Her own eyes flickered up at him, _tracking him_ , he thought to himself as he shifted, and he stilled, waiting for her reaction. Her arms never lost their grip around her legs, nor did she move away from the wall, but something in her eyes convinced him to move again. He slid a little closer, stopping again when she tensed. He raised a hand slowly, palm facing out towards her. "It is okay, you are safe. I will not hurt you." He stretched his hand out to her, waiting to see if the girl would take his hand.

There was a long pause, everyone in the room waiting with baited breath to see what the girl would do. Her eyes flickered from Elrond to the other occupants in the room, settling on the twins. Merileth also glanced over at them, surprised they did not react to the colour of her eyes, and raised an eyebrow when they grinned slightly, both at the same time. Elrond kept his attention firmly on the girl, watching as she then looked over at Glorfindel. He didn't smile at her, but his posture was one of friendliness. Merileth smiled in what she hoped was a reassuring manner when the multi-coloured eyes turned on her, before flickering back to the Elven-lord in front of her. More slowly than any of them thought possible she uncurled a hand from around her legs, stretching it out slightly towards Elrond. It wasn't stretched out very far, and her hand was shaking noticeably. Elrond moved slightly closer to her, waiting for her to take his hand. Another few minutes passed before she reached forward slowly and let her trembling fingertips brush against his hand. Elrond curled his hand ever so slightly around hers; when she didn't flinch or pull away he took a slightly firmer grip, noting the coolness of her skin.

"Can you understand me little one?" There was hesitation before her head dipped slightly, the breath leaving Merileth's lungs in a rush. They could communicate with her. "Can you speak?" there was a longer pause this time, the girl's head eventually lifting up away from her knees slightly. She opened a mouth a little but nothing came out. She bit her lip and tried again, her eyes widening as she looked up at Elrond. "It is okay little one. Your throat was heavily bruised when we found you; it may just take time to heal." Fear lingered in her eyes but she nodded slightly. "Some of your wounds may need to be looked at again. Can you stand?"

She broke eye contact and looked down at her knees, biting her lip slightly. She tightened her grip on Elrond's hand slightly, not by much, and pulled her other hand away from her legs. Elrond offered her his other hand; after a small amount of hesitation this time she took it, although again with not much of a grip. Elrond sensed rather than saw Glorfindel angle his body ever so slightly, ready to move if the girl should fall. Tensing his legs slightly he then pushed himself up off the ground, tugging very gently on the girls arms. She lifted up easily, showing just how little she weighed; despite him being as slow and gently as possible her body still trembled and she swayed alarmingly. The Rivendell Captain stepped forward as her knees started buckling almost instantly, sweeping an arm gently around her waist to stop her from hitting the floor. She tensed, but it seemed to be an automatic reaction rather than anything else this time. Slowly the two lords led the girl back to the bed, turning her around so she could sink down onto the soft mattress with ease.

Glorfindel kept his arm wrapped around the girl's waist, supporting her as Elrond's hands moved to the front of her gown. The girl tensed harshly as his fingers brushed the buttons just below her breasts and he instantly withdrew. Glorfindel placed his other hand on her shoulder, rubbing soft circles with a gentle hand whilst starting to murmur softly in Quenya to reassure her. Once she started calming down ne nodded at Elrond who moved forward slowly. Keeping his eyes locked with the girl's he began to unbutton her gown, just enough to expose the bandages wrapped around her abdomen. A dark stain marked the white material on her right side, probably from where she had hit the floor. She winced slightly when his fingers brushed the dark stains, the marring of bruises on the surrounding skin were very sensitive. The stain had not spread too much, nor was it particularly dark, indicating it was more than likely not too bad. Rather than unwrapping the bandage, which would irritate the wound and pain the girl further Elrond gently lay his right hand just over the wound, murmuring softly in Sindarin to ease her pain and promote faster healing.

After buttoning her gown up again, Elrond gently brushed his mind against hers. Now his powers of telepathy were not as great as those of the Lady Galadriel or Mithrandir, but they were powerful nonetheless. He had tries whilst she had been unconscious, but her mind had been too adrift for him to pinpoint any information. Even now there were only fragments floating around in her mind, so broken up it was impossible for him to understand anything. The brief glimpses he could catch were…disturbing. Cold, not temperature, but the girl herself, rigid, almost like she was unable to feel anything. Random glimpses of memory? Faces, voices, no name, nor the feel of any connections. Darker images too, solitary nights, always night and never day, battles, death. Before he could go any further a wall was slammed down hard and something incredibly strong pushed him away. So strong in fact that, even as his mind was forced out of the girl's, his body was also pushed slightly away from her. What was this? A hand on his shoulder revealed Elladan had moved to stand beside him, steading him slightly, his face holding a questioning gaze. Elrond nodded slightly and turned back to the girl, whom he noted was holding herself slightly hunched now, looking up at him with wide eyes.

"Did you just do that child? Create that wall?"

Everyone in the room could very well have not existed in that moment whilst Elrond waited for the girl's reply. Eventually she nodded, ever so slightly, her face pale and eyes uncertain, almost like she herself did not know what she had done, or indeed how she had done it. Elrond was not in the least bit surprised.

"You are telepathic?"

She looked uncertain, biting her bottom lip. Nerves? Or unsure? Carefully he opened his mind again, reaching for hers and brushing very lightly against the block that had been created around her mind. **_You are safe child…I am here to help you._** He whispered against her mind telepathically, wondering if this would help give him some insight as to who she was. there was a momentary hesitation before a crack formed slightly in the wall and something that could be compared to a breeze drifted through it. This…presence…brushed against Elrond's consciousness, testing his strength his ability. He stayed very still, both physically and mentally, realising in that moment that he may well have stumbled wildly out of his depth, both in terms of strength and knowledge.

 ** _Who am I?_** The voice that echoed against his thoughts sent him mentally reeling back. Images exploded against his eyes from that one small sentence. Lonliness, pain, anguish. Blood, so much blood. Confusion, loss. The voice itself was so small, so broken, merely a shadow of what he suspected it usually was – powerful and intimidating. Frightening even.

He stared at the girl with so much sympathy welling in his eyes. She looked so young, but Elrond found himself suddenly thinking that she could be older than his own sons, maybe even older than himself. A feeling of protectiveness, which had been present from the moment she had stumbled into the camp, surged over him even stronger than before. He shook his head slightly at her, watching her eyes dim, in disappointment? It was hard to tell. _ **No child, but I can help you find out.**_

Elrond was about to add more when the door to the chamber was suddenly flung open and an ellon wearing a servant's uniform entered. "King Thranduil" he announced in a loud voice, sending the girl cowering into the arms of Glorfindel, even as the Woodland King himself entered the chamber.

* * *

 **Translations** (as close as I can get them)

Carpathian:

 _Köd alte belső_ – Darkness curse it

Sindarin:

 _Echuio pen tithen. Lle ier varna_ – Awaken little one. You are safe

 _Lasto beth nîn pen tithen. Tolo dan nan galad –_ Hear my voice little one. Come back to the light

 _Av-'osto henig_ – Don't be afraid child

 _Pedil edhellen_ – Do you speak Elvish


	5. Chapter 5

**So this took a while to write. But it's done. Phew. Apologies for the wait, I hope you enjoy it.**

 **Big thank you to NightlyRowenTree and for adding it to your story alert list, and hikaru shinya for the review. Enjoy xXx**

* * *

Chapter Five

Thranduil had struggled to concentrate on ruling his kingdom ever since the party from Rivendell had arrived. It was not so much Lord Elrond and his entourage that were the cause for his lack of concentration, although it was probable that his twin sons, who managed to draw his own son from his duties and responsibilities at every turn, were partially to blame for this. No, the real problem lay with the woman they had brought in with them. From the second he had lain eyes on the woman lying limply in the arms of one of Elrond's sons, flushed with fever, he had been captivated by her. He was not sure what had caught his attention first; her facial features, delicate for a human, or how frail and vulnerable she looked in the strong arms of an Elven lord.

Whatever the case, he found that even now, several days after their arrival, the King often found his thoughts straying to the unknown individual lying unconscious in the halls of healing. Ûron had been working closely with Elrond to bring the fever she was suffering from under control; despite it appearing to break soon after she had first been brought in it had taken three days of close monitoring and constant care to kill it. Finally, on the fourth morning after their arrival, his head healer had arrived with the news they had finally managed to eradicate the fever. Her other injuries had been healing steadily, the larger one on her abdomen which had caused so much concern because of the infection that had set in was taking a lot longer to heal, but Ûron assured his King that was only to be expected given how severe it was. However, now that her temperature was finally under control and remaining steady both he and Elrond were hoping that she would soon begin to awaken. Privately Thranduil hoped so too; maybe once she was awake he could finally return to concentrating on the matters of his kingdom without being interrupted, and the talks that had been scheduled between his people and those of Rivendell could begin.

When one of the elleths who working in the healing halls came asking for him Thranduil had been in his audience chamber, listening to a report from one of his captains whose company had recently returned from the northern borders. Seeing the elleth being shown into the chamber Thranduil dismissed the captain with a casual wave. He could finish making his report to Legolas; the two of them were going to discuss the patrol later anyway. Flexing his fingers slightly he watched as the elleth approached the dais, bowing her head respectfully. "Aran-nin, the girl has finally begun to awaken. The Lord Elrond is with her now; he bid me to come and give you the news."

That was something else he had noticed, very early on in his musings. Whereas everyone else referred to her as the girl, he could only see a woman. Everything about her confounded him and it was annoying. It was then that he registered what had been said, and took a second to let the news sink in. finally, the woman who had captivated his attention by doing literally nothing had begun to stir. He stood up slowly, letting the heavy fabric of the cloak he was wearing fall from his shoulders to rest against the carved wood of his throne. It left him in the customary silver robe he normally wore when in the audience chamber, his crown today still that of summer, but adorned with leaves of every shade of green and an occasional red. He made his way down the steps of the throne, idly wondering if he should call his son back from his patrol. Legolas had left early that morning, taking Elrond's son Estel with him, but decided against it. Legolas had not shown the same amount of interest in the woman that Thranduil had, merely the idle curiosity most of their people held. Approaching the elleth he gestured for her to lead the way to the halls of healing, knowing the girl had been placed in a private chamber so the constant comings and goings of the healers would not disrupt any others currently residing in the halls.

"How does she fare?" Thranduil asked the elleth, Lessil he recalled, as they began to make their way through the walkways of the Realm. Lessil appeared to hesitate very briefly before she answered the question.

"It is difficult to say my king. She appears to be greatly confused, and unaware of her surroundings. This is the first time she had awaken since she arrived and does not seem to be completely coherent yet. She had not spoken, not before I left the chamber." She hesitated again, wandering just how much she should be telling the king about the girl's condition, or if it should be left to a more experienced healer, Ûron maybe or Lord Elrond even. They had approached the halls by now; seeing Thranduil enter one of the servants guessed his intentions and made his way over to the chamber the mysterious girl resided in to announce his King. Lessil paused, glancing up at Thranduil briefly before bowing her head. "I feel I should warn you, my King, there is something strange about this girl."

Thranduil paused, but before he could ask Lessil what she had meant by her comment the servant had already thrown the door to the chamber open and was announcing him. Straightening up, thoughts of Lessil already out of his mind, Thranduil strode into the chamber, stopping just inside and taking in the scene presented to him. Elrond's two elven sons stood closest to the door, both turning and offering short, identical bows. The Lord of Rivendell was kneeling on the ground beside the bed, obviously uncaring of the state of his robes (although he did often act as a healer first and a leader second) whilst a second elleth who worked in the healing chambers stood at the foot of the bed. Seeing Thranduil she dropped into a deep curtsy, her eyes having finally been ripped away from the two figures that graced the bed.

Thranduil's eyes barely registered any of the other occupants in the room as his attention was almost instantly caught by the two on the bed. The Rivendell Captain who had travelled with Elrond was sitting on the bed with one leg resting in a slight curve. The other was braced on the floor to balance himself as he cradled the body of the mystery woman, who was now finally awake. The being he had come to see, who had made him unable to concentrate on anything. What he saw caused the words he wanting to say die on his tongue; all he could do was stare at the woman, almost in a trance. Thranduil could not decide what it was that distracted him so much; her hair, now tousled from sleep and having been moving around, the glimpses of her body, which he could now see through the thin gown she was clad in, or her face, which somehow looked even more delicate now she was awake. Her face was mostly hidden at the moment, by the fall of her hair and pressing against Glorfindel's shoulder. A twinge passed through him at that sight, noticing she was trembling, and realized she was probably terrified.

* * *

Elrond pushed himself to his feet as the Elven King entered the chamber, repressing a heavy sigh. Could the elves here be any more ostentatious? Was the concept of humility really too much for them to grasp? He exchanged a quick glance with Glorfindel who somehow managed to look both amused and exasperated at the same time, before turning his attention to the newcomer. Walking around the bed he bowed his head ever so slightly in greeting. "King Thranduil."

The king blinked before turning to look at Elrond and bowed his head slightly in response. "I was told that she had awoken, the child you had brought with you." Calling her a child was bound to help, to distance her from his thoughts, even if it was obvious to all in the room that the figure on the bed was no child. Thranduil was trying hard not to see the generous curves through the gown she wore. But in a way, it was instinctive to call her that; she was so small and obviously terrified by everything that was happening; he was starting to feel…concerned about her. He was also starting to wander just how he had become so obsessed over this being, there was hardly anything to her. "How is she?"

Elrond noticed, but didn't comment, that Thranduil had failed to return the greeting. "Greatly confused, which is to be expected right now; she has only been awake for a short while. She is easily startled, as you can see; whatever has happened to her has left her extremely wary of everyone around her. Her physical wounds are healing well; I have just finished attending to the one on her abdomen that needed some aid."

Thranduil cocked an eyebrow slightly at Elrond's choice of words. "Physical wounds?"

Elrond sighed heavily. "Yes, there is far more going on with her than meets the eye. I am growing concerned over her mental state." Thranduil's stare grew even more questioning and Elrond turned slightly, walking them closer to the door and away from the others in the chamber. "It does not appear that she can speak, although I believe that is a result of the heavy bruising around her throat. We are working to ease them so hopefully she will be able to start talking soon. She also does not seem to understand any Elven tongues. Up till now she has only reacted to the common tongue. Somehow, and I am unsure as to how exactly she is doing it, she can communicate mentally.

Thranduil waved a hand to cut him off. "Mental communication? How is that possible? No mortal has that power, only some of the elves; even then it is a very rare gift."

Elrond could only shake his head. "As I said, I do not know how she can do it. But her gift is strong, much more powerful than mine is; she blocked me from her mind when I first entered. I have a feeling it was a reflex action more than anything else though; she did not appear to be aware of what she was doing, or just how powerful she is." He paused before adding, "That is not the strangest thing about her. When she looks at you, do not flinch." The king frowned in confusion. "Trust me, you will understand soon enough."

Thranduil looked over to the girl curled up on the bed, finding it hard to believe Elrond when he said that the girl was powerful; it was difficult to believe when she looked so vulnerable. "Has she been able to tell you anything about herself yet? Where she comes from, who she is?" Elrond merely shook his head in response, also turning to look at her.

"I can only assume at this point. She does not seem to know what her name is, not when I first asked her. It is possible that whatever experiences she has gone through has caused a mental injury, causing her memories to be destroyed, or at least blocked." Thranduil turned his head sharply to look at Elrond, his eyes widening in disbelief. "That can happen. Not with elves, but amongst other races, particularly men, and if the event in question was traumatic enough. From the few fragments I've been able to see, I would say that whatever happened to her was extremely traumatizing, and happened more than once."

The conversation between the two high elves was interrupted when the door opened silently. Ûron stepped into the chamber and bowed his head when he saw the elven king. "Aran-nin. Hir-nin Elrond. I was told the girl had awoken." Thranduil gestured to the elleth standing at the foot of the bed, wanting her to inform the healer of what had happened. His attention was diverted again by the girl who, with the new arrival and subsequent conversations, had buried her face into Glorfindel's shoulders, her thin form shaking softly. Elrond had also become aware of this and silently motioned for Merileth and Ûron to leave the chamber, trying to put the extremely overwhelmed girl at ease.

Once the two had left, followed by Lessil, Thranduil approached the bed, moving more cautiously than he had when he had first entered the chamber. He lowered himself slowly down onto the bed in an attempt to not frighten her further with his considerable height. He also made sure to sit at the foot of the bed, as far away from the girl as possible to not overcrowd her. Elrond moved to stand next to his sons, murmuring softly to them to bring them up to speed, and to inquire as to where Estel was at that moment. Their eyes stayed on the girl, but one of the twins, Elladan, kept glancing over at the elven king, noting at how intense his eyes were as he gazed at the girl.

* * *

Ever since the arrival of the king, Glorfindel had kept his eyes firmly on the girl who had managed to latch herself onto him. His attention was divided by her, Elrond, the twins and the Woodland King who stood at the end of the bed. He had felt the bed dip slightly under Thranduil's weight as he sat down, but was more aware of the girl's body tightening slightly as she too registered the sudden change. He continued to rub a hand in soothing circles against her back and murmured softly in the ancient language he had used an age ago, back in Gondolin, hoping it would help in calming her down. Her actions were reminding him of the experiences he went through when he was first returned to Arda by the Valar, and felt a sudden connection, a kinship even, with her.

Very slowly her body began to relax out of its tense position, but he was still very much aware of the fine trembling that was racking her body. He took a chance and loosened his hold on her ever so slightly, hoping it may encourage her to start interacting a little again. He knew that everyone in the room, himself included, wanted to know more about her, and unfortunately it was information that only she could provide. Hopefully she would be able to. It took a while but eventually the shaking faded to the occasional shudder. Very gently Glorfindel placed a finger under her chin, easing his body back slightly so he could raise her face. He wasn't met with any resistance, and when she finally looked up at him he was sure he felt his heart shatter. The girl looked scared, utterly alone and completely exhausted. She couldn't blame her for any of this; she had awoken for the first time since they had found her and so much had happened. It must have been impossible to try and process everything that was happening. He could also see, in her amazing eyes, what looked to be a natural wariness of everything around her, and it looked to be deeply ingrained. And there was weariness too, separate from the exhaustion that was painted so obviously across her entire face, that made him pause. This weariness was deeper, hidden, a part of her very being. Whoever this girl was, she had seen much. Possibly too much.

Thranduil was also able to see the weariness as it passed across her face, but was still unable to see her eyes, covered by the fall of her hair. Slowly her eyes broke contact with Glorfindel to drift around the room; unnerved at not being able to see everything she lifted a hand to push the thick locks away from her face, glancing briefly at the Rivendell lords still standing away from the bed to give her some space. She bit her lip before her gaze shifted again, landing on Thranduil, and he was struck by the rich gleam of her eyes. Elrond's words instantly sprang to mind, and suddenly made sense; he made sure to give no reaction as she stared at him. Utterly fascinated, he could only stare back. She was weakened, obviously so, and yet her eyes held a power so strong it took his breath away. She looked like her power had been forged in fire. Elrond and his sons broke their conversation up and looked over at the girl, gauging her reaction. After a brief pause they slowly approached the bed, the twins sinking down onto chairs at the foot of the bed whilst Elrond took one at the side of the bed, close to the girl, a gentle smile on his face. "Are you feeling better now child?" His voice was soft, deliberately so, the tones were ones he used when healing. It had a subtle reaction across the room, everyone relaxing slightly as it a heavy burden had been taken off of their shoulders. The girl nodded slightly, looking a little reassured by the use of the common tongue again. Elrond's answering smile was warming, infectious even, and he was glad to see her lips, still cracked and sore from dehydration, curving ever so slightly in reply.

Thranduil leant forward a little, drawing her gaze again which instantly became more guarded. His voice was also soft taking on a similar tone to the one Elrond had used, surprising everyone in the room, himself included. "What is your name child?" It was a question that they all wanted answered, even if Elrond was silently berating Thranduil for being so impatient. The girl swallowed ever so slightly, wincing at the movement. No sound came from her throat, but Elrond felt a soft stirring in his mind. It was a mixture of confusion and frustration, and that constant presence of fear. No words needed to be said, even if she could speak; it was written clear as day all over her face.

"It is okay child, no one here is pressing you." Elrond was quick to reassure her, seeing the emotions that were flying through her eyes. "It will come back with time." He wasn't so sure about that. "Until then, we need simply give you a name." He traded a brief glance with Glorfindel who nodded with agreement. Elladan spoke up with a suggestion. "How about _Hinnor?_ Fire-eyes." He raised a shoulder in a half-shrug. "It is simple, and easy to remember."

"It does seem to suit her. But…maybe _Hinnorwen_ …or perhaps _Hinnordes?_ " Thranduil tilted his head slightly, looking at the girl and trying to make his mind up. Elrond stiffened minutely as he felt a brush against his mind. It was soft, more of an echo than anything else, but it left him feeling as sure about it as he was about his own name. He did not even think to question it; before he was aware of what was happening, the words had left his lips. "Lylita. Her name is Lylita." The others turned to look at him, his sons with mirrored questioning expressions to which he merely replied with a shrug and turned to the girl. "Your name is Lylita is it not child?" She bit her lip, extremely hesitant, tilting a shoulder slightly. At least now it would be much easier to address her.

By now she had started to lean back against Glorfindel, but it did not seem to be that she was looking for reassurance or as a result of fear this time; she simply seemed exhausted. Glorfindel looked up at Elrond, but before he could ask anything Thranduil had spoken up again. "Where do you come from Lylita?"

The twins rolled their eyes; he could not help himself could he. Elrohir assumed he was being his usual insufferable self, but Elladan was not so sure. He recalled the intensity that the king was looking at the girl…Lylita…earlier. He seemed unusually taken with her. Not that Elladan knew much about the eleven king, only what he had heard from his father and from Legolas. But this behaviour couldn't be normal.

Lylita bit her lip again, her small teeth tugging at the chapped skin and Elrond sighed. He would have to put some balm on her lips if they were going to heal anytime soon. He was also a little annoyed with the king; it was obvious to all that she was growing weary and needed to rest. His sharp eyes noted how hers started darting around, the thin column of her throat moving as she swallowed reflexively, which in turn caused her to wince. He felt what was now becoming familiar, the brush against his mind. She was growing agitated, and from what he was seeing, rightfully so. "Ssshh," he leant forward and rested a hand ever so lightly on her arm. "Try not to force the memories. They will come back with time." She looked up at him, pleading in her eyes and he didn't need to be a mind reader to know what she was asking. He sighed. "I do not know child. The mind is a strange thing. They will come back when you are ready."

Lylita nodded, and this seemed to take the last of her strength. She sagged against Glorfindel and at a nod from Elrond he shifted slowly, moving so he could lower her back down against the pillows. Her eyes were drifting shut and she was making no attempt to fight it; her strength was gone and she was clearly unable to stay awake any longer. Elrond was surprised she had managed to stay awake for as long as she had.

Thranduil had risen, about to ask Elrond why he had stopped, but a gesture from the elven lord to the bed had him turning, seeing Lylita properly. She was out of it, drifting off to sleep. He sighed, realizing they would not be getting anything more out of her until she next woke. One he had risen to his feet Glorfindel started arranging Lylita's body comfortably on the bed. The twins had also stood up and one of them, Elrohir this time, strode over to the far side of the bed, picking a woollen blanket up off of the floor from where it must have fallen from the bed. He passed one side of it over to Glorfindel and carefully they spread it over the girl's drowsing form, tucking it in gently around her to stop her body from becoming chilled. She had not long beaten a fever, the last thing she needed was to get ill from being unable to keep a stable temperature. They then stepped away to join Elladan, Elrond and Thranduil who were standing by the door. They stood there, waiting by silent agreement for her to fall asleep before they left the room. Elladan looked over to his father. "So, Lylita? Where did that come from?"

His father sighed slightly, passing a hand over his eyes. "I am not sure. It came from her, but it was not her saying it. It was…a memory. No, not even that, it was too fragmented." Everyone save for Glorfindel looked confused by this so he elaborated. "Whatever has happened to her has damaged her mind. I think that is why I am having so much trouble connecting to her. Think of a pitcher." He motioned to the pitcher of water standing on the table by the bed. "This is what our minds are like. They are whole, complete, nothing missing and no cracks in it. Now imagine that the jug has fallen to the floor and has broken into pieces. And not large pieces either, but a hundred tiny pieces that have scatted across a large space. Some of these pieces are missing; they have been kicked away or trodden down into dust. You will never be able to recover all of them and re-create the jug, exactly as it was. That is what Lylita's mind is like. I can touch a fragment, maybe two, but I cannot hold onto them for long. And it is causing her pain too, which is unsurprising. These fragments are of images I would wish for no one to see. Ever." He looked to his old friend. "They are worse than Gondolin."

Glorfindel closed his eyes as Elrohir spoke up; he had been the first to understand what Elrond was saying. "So even if we could reconnect the majority of these fragments in her mind…"

Elrond nodded with a grave face. "There is the greatest possibility that her mind will never truly be the same again. It will be fragile for a long time, and she will be missing large parts of her mind. Truthfully, I am not sure if her mind _can_ be put back together, it is damaged that badly."

They all turned to look at Lylita, a wave of pity washing over them all as they stared silently at the still form. It was naturally at that moment, when silence had fallen over the room, that a sharp knock echoed on the door; an ellon wearing the uniform of Mirkwood's guard came swiftly into the chamber. He bowed stiffly toward Thranduil and spoke in hushed, rapid tones. His manner was swift, urgent, and set the Rivendell elves on alert. At the sudden noises Lylita roused slightly, but none of the elves noticed. The guard left quickly, and Thranduil swung around to look at Elrond. "Orcs have engaged the forces along the river. They were heading this way."

Elrond and Glorfindel were shocked at this news. "Do reinforcements need to be sent out?"

The king shook his head. "No, they orcs have already been slaughtered. But there are wounded. Including…" he broke off and swallowed. "Including our sons."


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six

 _The king shook his head. "No, the orcs have already been slaughtered. But there are wounded. Including…" he broke off and swallowed. "Including our sons."_

Barely ten minutes had passed since the guard had delivered the news, and everything had descended into a sense of controlled chaos. Three of the warriors who had been out on patrol with Legolas and Estel had been brought back already and were being tended to by the healers. But most of the patrol were still out in the forest, guarding those who could not be moved until they were seen to by the more experienced healers. Among those were the sons of the two elven leaders, and so both Thranduil and Elrond were riding out to meet the patrol. Elrond would have gone anyway; his obligations as a healer would not have allowed him to remain behind, but Thranduil had to see his son with his own eyes.

Whilst he had been getting ready and the party of elves who would accompany them were assembling with the necessary supplies, Thranduil had received a more detailed account of the attack. Legolas' patrol had been scouting along the Elven path, making sure nothing was following the trail the Rivendell party had made. It was along this path that they had come across a small band of orcs and had given chase. Unfortunately, the small group of the foul creature had turned out to be just one part of a much larger gathering. They had taken the scouting party by surprise, a feat considering how in tune the Wood Elves were with their forest, and a fierce battle had broken out. It was still unclear yet as to how the Crown Prince had been injured, but Thranduil knew his son; he had either carried on fighting after receiving an injury and had made it worse, or had intercepted a blow meant for one of his comrades. _Stubborn elf_ , Thranduil thought to himself as he entered the courtyard in front of the stables.

The party setting out was already mounted and awaiting him; some of the healers had already left with a handful of guards but Lord Elrond and Ûron were waiting for him with the majority of the guard. One of Elrond's sons had already set off with the healers, and the other was remaining in the halls to help the healers who were staying behind. It was an unspoken agreement that he would also keep an eye on the woman. _Lylita_ , he reminded himself even as he forced his mind away from the girl. Right now, he needed to be focused on his kingdom and his son. Nothing more.

Thranduil swung himself up onto the elk he usually rode through the woods and gestured for the group to move out. He realised that the golden-haired Captain of Elrond's guard was not with them. when he enquired as to his whereabouts Elrond nodded forward. "He went on ahead with the first group. He might not be as familiar with the forests, but he is a master at hunting and running down orcs. If there are any of those foul creatures near our sons Glorfindel will find them."

The king nodded and fell silent, concentrating instead on the ride. Nothing more was said by any of the elves until they reached the clearing where the scouting party were being attended to. The healers immediately leapt off their mounts and began tending to the wounded. The guards that had accompanied them spread out, taking up defensive positions around the edge of the clearing. Elrond dismounted the second he saw Elrohir and strode over to him with Ûron at his side. Thranduil was just behind them, having guessed correctly that his son would be close to Elrond's. sure enough, their sons lay side by side under the shelter of a large oak tree. Well, the human was laying down anyway. The elven prince was reclined against the bark of the tree. His eyes were half-closed, and a small smile was painted on his face as he listened to the familiar lecture Ûron was giving him even as he eased Legolas' bloody tunic away from his chest to reveal the wound.

Thranduil knelt next to his son, resting a hand gently on his arm. Legolas didn't flinch, nor did he open his eyes, but the smile on his face grew. "Ada," he breathed softly, inclining his head slightly in his father's direction. "A lovely day for a walk in the woods, is it now?"

The elven-king cocked an eyebrow. "How do you feel, my son?" He wasn't expecting a truthful answer; Legolas always downplayed the severity of his wounds and the level of pain he felt. So, he was not at all surprised by the answer.

Legolas eased a shoulder up in a small shrug. "Same as ever Ada. Just sitting back and enjoying the view."

Now Thranduil was frowning. Legolas was never this…well, never like this. He looked at Ûron who was crouched on the Prince's other side. "Has he been given anything?"

The head shook his head as he concentrated on stopping the bleeding. "Not that I am aware of, aran-nin."

"He was like this when we arrived, King Thranduil." Elrohir joined them briefly. "Though since he has been resting Legolas' mood has become more relaxed." He handed a bowl of steaming water with soaking athelas over to Ûron before straightening up and going back over to his father. The healer set about soaking bandages in the athelas to press against the wound.

Thranduil turned his attention back to his son, who still had a small smile on his face. "What happened Legolas?"

Legolas leant forward as Ûron started trying to remove the rest of his tunic, his eyes focusing suddenly on his father. "We were travelling back through the woods, following the pathway through the trees. It was just before the clearing that we came across the orcs. There were only a handful, but were clearly following the trail, so we ambushed them and followed when they fled. We didn't realise they were only one part of a much larger force. They took us completely by surprise. Although we managed to destroy them, there was something d-different about them." His voice stuttered slightly when Ûron placed the soaked cloths against the wound and started binding them to his torso with more bandages.

"What do you mean?" Thranduil's hand tightened a little.

"Their style of fighting has changed. They were more organised, it was like they had a specific reason for being out here. We didn't find out what though. As soon as we came upon them they were fighting to the death."

"Do you know which direction they came from?"

Legolas shook his head, leaning back against the tree once the healer was finished. "No, Estel might though. He was the one who saw the larger group first." He sighed, the smile re-appearing on his face. "The trees feel different Ada. It's nice."

Thranduil blinked. His son sounded…almost child-like in his statement. He reached out slowly and let his hand brush up against the tree. His arm retracted slightly in shock. The tree felt…alive was the wrong word. Healthy. Happy. It was practically bubbling with life. He looked down at his son. Legolas had always had a stronger connection to the trees, it was part of the reason behind his name.

Still, he wasn't the King of the Woodland Realm in title only. Resting his hand on the tree bark again Thranduil concentrated briefly and spread his awareness around the clearing. What he found stunned him. Every tree was the same. Brimming with energy and so full of light. He found it was easier than ever to connect with the trees and his awareness spread, latching onto more and more trees throughout the forest.

Before he had fully realised what was happening his mind had stretched to the Palace, and it felt like he was seeking something. Suddenly his journey stopped, and he was met with…darkness. No light, no sound. Nothing. But something was there. He stretched a little further, almost unconsciously, and heard something. A murmur, a faint whisper almost, in a language he had never heard before. But he couldn't focus on it. Because suddenly he could hear another sound. Weeping. So soft it was almost overlooked.

Before he could latch onto the source of that weeping his consciousness was thrown back into his body by a hand dropping forcefully onto his shoulder. His eyes fluttered before opening; he hadn't realised they had closed. Elrond was looking at him with concern. "What happened?"

"I…I don't know." Thranduil's voice shook and he had to take a second to pull himself together. "I connected to the trees, but in a way that I have not done for an age." He looked down at his son, who was staring at him through slightly glazed eyes.

"You can feel it too, can't you Ada." Legolas' statement was soft.

Thranduil nodded. Oh, did he ever. Elrond frowned. "What can you feel?" He was concerned about Thranduil's and Legolas' behaviour.

"The trees. They feel happy." Legolas was starting to sound dreamy, alarming Elrond even further. Exchanging a glance with Ûron, the two healers gripped the younger elf by his shoulders and gently pulled him away from the tree. Legolas shuddered slightly, his eyes fluttering before focusing fully on those in front of him. When he spoke again his voice was clearer. "There's been a darkness in the forest for years. Every day it spreads a little more, another tree becomes a victim of the darkness and more and more fell creatures are spreading across our lands. But now…"

"Now those very trees that were tainted by darkness are so full of light it is spreading out into the surrounding trees. The woods actually feel like they are healing." Thranduil finished his son's sentence, staring at Legolas. He then turned his head to look at the Rivendell leader. "Not even the combined powers of myself and Legolas have been enough to hold back the darkness. Now it is being driven back by something I have never seen before."

He shared a significant look with Elrond. Only one thing had changed in the last few days, and it was at the palace, tucked away in a private room off the healing chambers.

* * *

"… _cistri…jo_ _ŋ_ _esz, kont o s_ _í_ _vank. Te torosz w_ _ä_ _keval. M_ _ä_ _ne elid la_ _ń_ _a."_

The words fluttered gently against her as she passed through the halls, not realising that no one had noticed her as she passed them. She wasn't aware of anything save for the voices.

And the feeling.

The feeling of something so profoundly wrong. Of something terrible. Of danger.

There was trouble coming and it left a rancid feel in her body.

Elladan, son of Elrond, was standing at the gates, looking out into the forest. Something was wrong, but he couldn't work out what it was. One of the Woodland captains came to stand next to him. Elladan tilted his head slightly. "Belegornion."

"You feel it too?" Belegornion's voice was soft and full of meaning. Elladan nodded. "What do you want to do?"

The elf from Imladris glanced at his companion briefly. No words were said, but the two moved almost in sync; Elladan with his sword in hand and Belegornion gripping his bow, stealing into the trees.

Neither of them noticed the small, waif-like figure following them.

* * *

The plan had been to get the wounded back to the Palace as quickly as possible and treat them in the healing halls. No one wanted to stay out in the open for any length of time. But the revelation from the king and prince changed everything.

Thranduil wanted to find out how deep into the forest this change was spreading. It was safer to do this physically rather than mentally as he would be more aware of his surroundings and wouldn't become overwhelmed by the state of the trees. Elrond was opposed to the idea but there was nothing he could do to physically prevent Thranduil from doing what he thought was right. He was curious himself about what was going on, and was wondering where the girl Lylita fell into all of this. Eventually he agreed to accompany; he felt it was imperative to find out what was going on, so he could properly inform the White Council. The two leaders would be joined by members of two scouting groups, whilst the guards who had initially come with them would be accompanying the healers and the injured back to the Palace. That included Legolas and Estel, which neither were particularly happy about.

It wasn't like either of them would be able to accompany the group. Estel was still woozy from a bad knock to the head, and had been hit by an arrow in his thigh – it was only through sheer luck the arrow wasn't poisoned. At least he was being somewhat reasonable about being in the scouting party, although no one was certain if he was completely aware of what was going on. Legolas on the other hand…he was never reasonable when he was injured. It wasn't until he had tried to stand up and promptly fell back over that anyone was aware of his broken ankle – something that had his father rolling his eyes, Elrond shaking his head and Ûron shouting at him for not being forthcoming about his injuries. Combining that with the pain he was undoubtedly feeling and the blood-loss Ûron finally put his foot down and threatened to knock him over the head and have him carried back to the Palace like a sack of potatoes if he didn't go quietly *****. Legolas turned to his father but saw the king fighting not to smile and gave up with a huff. It didn't help that Elrohir was cackling in the background even as he helped his foster brother up onto a horse.

It wasn't long after they had left the larger group that they were joined by Glorfindel. He hadn't come across any orcs in the immediate area, and was uneasy about it. The reports he had heard from the scouting team had him convinced at least some of the force that had attacked them had managed to slip away. Legolas' group of elves were good, but they had been hopelessly outnumbered. He couldn't pick up a trail in any direction, but it did nothing to put to rest the unease he was feeling. And this insane venture which would take them even deeper into Mirkwood put him right on edge. But he knew there was no point in saying anything, and so reluctantly tagged along, murmuring to Elrond that he reserved the right to say, "I told you so" when something inevitably went wrong.

Which was exactly what happened, less than ten minutes later. Th orcs Glorfindel had been trying to find descended on them with no warning, and in a far larger group than any of the elves had seen in the forest for a long time. Despite the fighting prowess of the elves, they were slowly becoming more and more overwhelmed by the orcs.

Elrond and Glorfindel were fighting back to back, and had become separated from the rest of the group; the orcs were closing in on them. Even as Glorfindel sunk his sword into the chest of one of the creatures another two were creeping up on him, intent on attacking together. He knew he wasn't going to be able to fight them both at the same time. He could only choose which one to fight, and attempt to delay the other. The first orc engaged him and the second one crept up behind, raising its weapon to strike him in the back. Which it would have done, had an arrow not come flying out of the trees and hit the creature in the middle of the forehead. He was dimly aware of two elves dropping to the ground even as he continued to battle the orc. Eventually Glorfindel finally dispatched it by severing its head from its neck. Finding a temporary lull in the battle he turned to see who had managed to join them and was shocked to see one of the twins and a member of the Woodland Guard. He knew it was Elladan from his fighting style – one of the few things that set him apart from his twin – and felt his forehead crease slightly in confusion. He had been sure the older twin had remained behind in the Palace. ****** He couldn't question it however as he saw Elrond starting to become overwhelmed. He dove back into the fight without a second thought.

* * *

Thranduil barely had time to think as he fought. Everything was instinctual at this point. Without realising it he had started falling into his connection with the trees to locate his next foes, and to track the rest of his company. He knew that the two Rivendell lords had been separated from them and was trying to make his way over to the pair, but it was hard going. Not all the trees in the area he was in had been affected by the 'light' as his son had called it, which made it difficult to tell which 'dark' spots were trees, and which were orcs. He was aware however, of two bright spots that had joined the two from Imladris and felt a little of his apprehension bleed away. It didn't fade completely though, as the orcs continues to flood over them with no sign of letting up.

Until suddenly, they did. There seemed to be no reason for it, but the constant onslaught suddenly ceased and all they had to do was finish off those that were surrounding them. That did not take very long and eventually the only beings left standing were the elves. Well, not all of them. Three elves had been killed in the battle and two more were wounded. The injuries were not severe, but Elrond would feel happier when they were in the healing halls.

Thranduil frowned when he noticed Belegornion striding towards him, Elrond's son (he couldn't tell which one he was but was going to assume he was the one who had stayed behind at the Palace) beside him. He met the pair halfway and the Woodland Captain straightened with an almost audible snap. "Aran-nin." He bowed his head.

"What are you doing here Belegornion?" It wasn't really a question.

"The Lord Elladan and I both sensed something amiss in the woods. We felt it imperative to track down whatever was wrong."

Thranduil raised an eyebrow. "And did you inform anyone you were leaving your post?"

"I was not on duty, Aran-nin. But no, I did not tell anyone I was leaving. I was in error for that and I apologise. But I felt the danger we could sense was more important."

The king was nodding his head as Elrond and Glorfindel stepped up beside him, having caught the end of the conversation. "Was it the orc party?" was Glorfindel's question. The events of the last few hours had him on edge and he was still feeling uneasy at the whole situation.

He felt like running a hand through his hair in exasperation when he saw Elladan shake his head. "No. Whatever it is, we have not yet found it."

"Nor will you." Their heads turned to look at the Elven-king. The fight had managed to clear his head and he once again felt like he was in control. "Our concern is on any creatures that have encroached on our lands. We are close to the borders, is this 'threat' nearby?" Elladan forced himself to not roll his eyes at the statement whilst his father and Glorfindel exchanged an exasperated glance. This was exactly the sort of situation they had come to try and resolve; Thranduil's indifference to everything outside his kingdom.

Belegornion maintained his composure, never once indicating if he was frustrated with his king. "We do not know Sire, only the direction." His tone was indifferent, not betraying his feelings. "It was coming from the South."

Even as he spoke a chill wind picked up. All the elves stiffened at the unexpected stench that was borne in on the wind; one that they were all far too familiar with. _Death_. The king stretched out mentally, connecting with the trees; beside him Elrond was doing the same except he was trying to connect to the minds of anything that might be out there. Glorfindel and Elladan knew not to disturb Elrond during these times and simply took up defensive positions on either side, watching the forest with wary eyes. The Mirkwood elves picked up on their behaviour and quickly copied them; before long there were elves posted in the trees and on the ground. Watching. Waiting.

Without warning Thranduil started forward, his eyes wide as his consciousness returned. Elrond was a second behind him and the two elves were staring towards the South. "What is it?" Glorfindel demanded, resting a hand firmly on Elrond's arm.

It was not really surprising that Thranduil answered before Elrond had even opened his mouth. "Spiders. The spiders are coming."

Glorfindel frowned. He knew that the Greenwood had become plagued by the giant arachnid's more and more in recent years, but the elves had become very efficient in beating them back. But he didn't like the look on the king's face. "How many?" He asked the question softly, not wanting to portray any nerves he might be feeling.

Elrond answered this time, swallowing heavily before he spoke. "Over a hundred."

The silence was deafening, even the sounds of the forest seemed to drop. Eventually Elladan cleared his throat. "How long?" Even as he asked the question his elven hearing could pick up the faint rustling of a large force moving their way.

Belegornion dropped to the ground, his bow held loosely in his grasp. Out of all the wood elves (with the probable exception of Legolas because the prince truly was a magnet for trouble) he had the most experience in dealing with spiders. "They're little more than a league away from here. Too close for us to get back to the Palace and too many for us to deal with my lords." He turned to Thranduil. "What are your orders, Aran-nin?"

For the first time Thranduil hesitated. He could feel the spiders coming closer and he knew they were outnumbered but he also knew that there was never a question of them running. He glanced at the two half-elven lords and the ancient warrior from Gondolin, noting the expressions of acceptance and resolve on their faces, before looking back to his captain. "We destroy them."

* * *

"I hate to say it, mellon-nin. I really do."

"Then don't say it."

There was a long pause as the two ellons fought near each other. Instead of fighting together like they normally would the two lords had been paired with a scout, someone who was used to fighting in the woods and knew how to battle the spiders. They still fought close together; different foes and battlegrounds couldn't change a fighting habit engrained over a thousand years. Eventually they managed to make their way back to one another.

"But now really is the time to say it."

"Still doesn't mean you have to."

Now the two were facing off one particularly foul spider, venom dripping from its mouth and its pincers clicking madly as it rushed them. Without speaking the pair split, allowing the arachnid to pass between them. The dark-haired elf's partner swung down from the tree branches to land on its back, sinking an arrow into its head as the pair made short work of the two smaller spiders that had come up with it.

Glorfindel cut the head off of his spider and turned to the Lord of Imladris with a wry grin. Elrond saw this and groaned softly. "Must you? Really?"

His captain grinned. "And you wonder where your sons get their quirks from?" He sunk his sword through the head of another spider. "But you know, I told you so."

Elrond was tempted to throw a rock at the golden-haired elf. Or at least a very large stick. Unfortunately, he could no neither until this seemingly never-ending battle was won. He had no idea how long they had been fighting, or how many they had killed, but he was aware that many of the elves fighting with them had fallen, either dead or dying. And the spiders kept on coming. He had lost sight of his son a while ago but could still see Thranduil. Which was how he knew the king had finally become overwhelmed and saw him being driven to the ground. He shouted to Glorfindel and started trying to force his way over to the king.

So of course, he wasn't aware of the spider dropping down from the trees. He heard his friend shout out to him and was turning even as he was knocked down. His sword was trapped beneath him and his legs tangled up with the spiders. Elrond saw the stinger emerge from the spider's body and realised for the first time in many years that he could actually die this time.

Or at least, that's what he was thinking, right up until the spider quite literally exploded in a shower of blood and guts. It was only fortunate that Elrond had managed to close his eyes in time, or he would have ended up with spider guts in his eyes. Hearing Glorfindel shout again he managed to peel his eyes open, and stared at the scene in front of him with no small degree of confusion. Suddenly his friend was beside him, helping him up. He realised Elladan had also found them and was surveying the forest around them in shocked silence.

A wolf, covered in a thick black coat of fur, was tearing through the spiders like they were nothing more than blades of grass. Even as Elrond watched, the wolf…changed. There truly was no better word for it. Within the blink of an eye the wolf was gone and in its place, was a twisting column of air and fire and ice and water and just pure, undulated power. It slammed through the bodies of the spiders and quite literally tore them to shreds.

In a manner of seconds, the spiders had all been destroyed, leaving the elves to slowly regain their feet, all staring at the mass of raw energy and power pulsing near the Woodland king. Slowly the column shifted, falling down to the ground and collapsing in on itself. Elrond and Glorfindel found themselves staring once again at the black wolf, standing on shaking legs and its sides heaving as it panted for air. Elrond noticed that its fur wasn't pure black; strands of grey and silver were woven through its coat, along with the evidence of previous battles. Its head was down as it continued to gulp down air, but as he shifted, taking a step closer its head snapped up, swinging around to stare at him.

Elrond stopped, shock sweeping through him as he met the eyes of the wolf. He recognised those eyes, those pain-filled, tortured, world-weary eyes. Eyes he had only ever seen on one other being.

The eyes of the battered girl they had left at the Palace, Lylita, stared at him from the body of the wolf.

* * *

 _Translations_

Carpathian:

 _Cistri_ – Little one (female)

 _Jo_ _ŋ_ _esz, kont o s_ _í_ _vank_ – Return, strong heart (literally: heart of the warrior)

 _Te torosz w_ _ä_ _keval_ – You fight fiercely

 _M_ _ä_ _ne elid la_ _ń_ _a_ – Save life daughter

* * *

 _Elvish Names_

Belegornion – Son of mighty tree

* * *

 _Notes_

 ***** \- I cannot remember if elves eat potatoes or not so just went with it.

 ****** \- I am guessing he is the older twin as he is always mentioned first in my research. Please correct me if I am wrong.


End file.
